Recreate
by Obvious Ghost
Summary: Deep in the Oregon woods, an unusual child reflects on life.


The boy is sitting a ways from the fire.

He shivers, but makes no effort to move any closer, choosing to remain a few yards away. There's a baseball cap lying on the ground, and he's wrapping his arms tightly around a thin vest. Fear and worry are etched onto his face- his eyes dart nervously between the fire and the shadows in front of him, blinking rapidly.

"Hey, kid."

Startled, he emits a yell and whirls around. A few seconds pass before he's able to relax, the look of terror and shock replaced by suspicion. "Who are you?"

"That's what I was gonna ask you, actually."

He frowns, clearly still shaken. "What?"

"Before you freaked out, anyway. I tell ya, I think that shriek could break glass. No offense."

The boy sighs and turns back to face the fire. He seems to notice the hat, quickly placing it back on his head.

"Got over it pretty quick, though, didn't ya?"

He doesn't turn around. "Yeah, well, I've seen scarier things than you."

The embers crackle loudly, and the faint chirp of crickets sounds out. The boy scowls, adding, _"No offense."_

"Heh, fair enough."

He grabs a pinecone, throwing it against the half-burned logs in front of him. It bounces away. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Nah. Just to talk. That was some party, huh?"

Quietly- almost imperceptibly- the boy catches his breath. Then, as if nothing happened, he turns around. "You were there?" he asks casually.

"I try to keep up with anything interesting in this town. And no one throws a party quite like Stan Pines, you know? Sure, there are a lot of copycats... but the Mystery Shack is where it's at, as far as I'm concerned."

"Yeah." He shakes his head, not smiling. "It's something."

"Have fun?"

"Uh..." He scratches his neck, looking uncomfortable. "I'm not much for, you know, dancing and stuff. I mean, I was gonna, but then-"

"I gotcha. Things get in the way."

A pause. "Right."

"...Can I ask you something?"

The boy nods.

"What's the first thing you remember?"

He snorts. "What kind of question is that?"

"Humor me."

"No." The boy scowls, then stands and begins walking around the fire. "Look, man, that's kind of a weird thing to-"

"I told you. When something here is... interesting, it gets my attention."

He stops, glaring over the flames. "So?"

"So I've seen a lot of strange things in this town. But you-"

The boy looks away.

"-You're kind of a special case, aren't you?"

He grits his teeth and clenches his hands into fists. "You saw the whole thing?" he says quietly.

"Every moment. I gotta know, kid- what was it like? What do you remember?"

Still glaring, he sits down, then lets his head fall into his hands. Silence rings for a few seconds. "We were just supposed to take the bike," he finally says. "We came back later, but they..." His voice catches. "The rest were gone. We didn't- we had no clue where to go. What to do."

The boy looks up. "Ended up here." He gestures to the trees around him. "Honestly, I don't even know where I am right now."

"...That's not what I meant."

He laughs bitterly. "Like I care."

"Kid, even in Gravity Falls, this is something incredible. Impossible. You gotta understand, it's a marvel that-"

"No, I don't!" he yells suddenly, standing again. "I don't need to _understand-_ I don't need to do anything! Did you ever think that maybe I didn't want to be a marvel? Maybe I just want my life back!"

He's breathing heavily, staring forward with fury in his eyes. "You want to know what I remember? Fine. I remember the house back in California. I remember my parents. I remember growing up, and moving here, and Stan, and the Shack." He nearly spits the words. "Or how about Wendy, and Soos, and spending a whole lifetime with Mabel and trying to put together some stupid party and getting the idea to-"

Abruptly, he stops. For a second, it's as if he's not breathing.

"...What else?"

The boy raises a shaking hand to cover his eyes. "I remember waking up," he says slowly. "And- and the number." He suddenly grabs the hat, throwing it forcefully to the forest floor. A black **3**, scrawled in marker, stares up at him from the ground.

"I _am_ Dipper Pines," he says, voice trembling. "That's just... not my name anymore."

In the stillness, the fire crackles and hisses.

"...What about the other?"

He takes a deep breath. "Said he wanted the bike. I didn't really care." He shudders and takes a moment to sit back down. "Far as I know, he could be in Canada by now. Or maybe he got caught in a storm."

Getting no response, he smiles thinly. "We're not so great with rain." Even though he's still far from the fire, he reaches his hand out- almost instantly, the edges of his fingers begin to turn black, and he swiftly pulls back.

"Quite a story, kid."

"Hm." With a nod, he looks back down.

"What if I told you I could help?"

The boy pauses. He doesn't turn away from the fire, but he's tensed, nearly trembling with anticipation. "How?" he asks carefully.

"Don't worry. I have some... tricks up my sleeve, to say the least. If you stick with me, I'll help you get it all back."

He doesn't say anything.

"But for starters, maybe you just need a new name."

"...Yeah, maybe." He blinks, then looks up. "You never told me yours."

A single eye shines brightly.

"You can just call me Bill."

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-Inspired by SmuseRay's "Revenge of the Clones". As far as I know, he's the first person to write about 3 and 4.


End file.
